


Chains

by elly32



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elly32/pseuds/elly32
Summary: Can the lion save the wolf and the wolf protect the lion? Myrcella and Robb have to find a way to survive and save all they hold dear.
Relationships: Joffrey Baratheon/Margaery Tyrell, Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Myrcella Baratheon/Robb Stark
Comments: 49
Kudos: 107





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.I can't stop myself, the idea just stuck in my head!  
> Hope You'll like it:)  
> I don't own anything but the plot.
> 
> As always a warning:  
> This piece wasn't betaed and English is: a)no my native language and b)not my strong point! There could be ( and believe me there WOULD be a lot of grammar, spelling and other errors) so consider Yourself warned;)

The view was horrifying. A mass of bodies piled up one on top of the other permanently bound together in a death embrace. Even worse was the smell, the stench of rotting bodies and decaying animals, all of which in the scorching sun quickly became a feeding ground for flies. A golden spot in the midst of this chaos was the royal procession walking proudly, with pennants, musicians playing their instruments and the smiling cheerful King Joffrey Baratheon at the head, who was currently presenting to his young wife the corpses of men from the North, men devoted to her who had come to save her. Myrcella, standing behind the royal couple and her mother, was fighting the nausea.

The odor and view were terrible, but the worst was her brother's victorious face. He was perfectly enthusiastic about all of this! She turned her eyes away and met the concerned look of her loyal defender. Ser Arys moved a little closer, offering her his support. She made a slight gesture, knowing that her mother and the King would not forgive her if she displayed any weakness.

"Isn't it magnificent! Victory, I achieved a glorious victory!" Joffrey was so proud, and Myrcella lowered her head to keep her feelings from disclosing.

No, he achieved no victory, it was her grandfather who had cunningly lured the young King in the North into the trap with the help of Walder Frey and Roose Bolton using his loyalty, attachment and love for his mother and younger brothers as a weapon against him. In fact, as far as she was aware, contrary to Joffrey's claims, the victory was not so significant. Despite being surprised, most of the Northern army succeeded in escaping the capture, partly due to Joffrey himself, who, despite Tywin's directions, had attacked them with his royal regiments, without waiting for the rest of the Lannisters' army to enclose them in the area. This led Lord Tywin into rage. He immediately set off in pursuit of the fugitives with Jaime, cursing the foolishness of the young King.

"Magnificent." the Queen Mother who was always at his side assured her son.

"What do you think, my darling wife?" Joffrey addressed Sansa who was standing by his side.

"My King, this is truly a triumph that is worthy of you," she bowed in response.

Joffrey was laughing when he patted her on the pale cheek. "But that's not all, I have another surprise for you, my darling!"

Myrcella's got pale upon hearing that. Joffrey's surprises have never been pleasant.

She sighed loudly to the sight that appeared to her eyes. Four soldiers of the Royal Army were coming forward bringing a chained prisoner between them. He had chains on his legs, his hands and even one on his neck. It was obvious that he was wounded, but they still ruthlessly pushed him forward while laughing enthusiastically.

"My darling, behold, Your King presents to you the King in the North!" Joffrey exclaimed and Myrcella's eyes flew to the prisoner's dirty bloodied face.

He had changed a lot since she had seen him at Winterfell, then his eyes had been clean and friendly, she had even seen some warmth and praise in them. Now when their eyes met, he was looking at her with sheer hatred.

Myrcella shuddered under that gaze and dropped her eyes without even realizing that Queen Sansa fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. Thank you to everyone who read the first part, and left a comment and kudos:) Hope you'll like this one:D

* * *

There were debates in the council chamber. The King demanded the head of his prisoner, he wanted to make his death a spectacle that the world had not seen, but so far Tyrion, the King's hand in Tywin's absence, was able to stop him. They had no news from Tywin, and Tyrion was increasingly concerned.

Myrcella gazed pitifully at her good-sister's pale, drawn face. Sansa was on the verge of fatigue, so she had been dancing on a thin line for so long, mindful not to provoke the monster she had married and who cared about nothing or anybody busy with adoring Margaery Tyrell, who was wrapping him around her little finger. Myrcella wished to help Sansa with every part of her being, but she couldn't even get near her without stirring up attention. Queen Sansa was under constant scrutiny, she was never alone flanked by her good-mother ladies, listening to her every word and her husband's Guards who were ready to strike a blow at any time she was an infinite prisoner.

Myrcella had contemplated her options the whole day before she made her decision. She couldn't, she simply couldn't do any other way.

* * *

Obtaining the information about where they were imprisoning the King in the North was not especially difficult, it was enough to follow in silence Joffrey's boasting, who, in the audience, was proclaiming how he was keeping that " _rotten, filthy, scoundrel of a traitor buried alive in the dungeons on an iron leash, and allowing him to drink water from the bowl like the dog he was"_ while playing with the golden key hanging around his neck. Each meal ended with Joffrey tossing the leftovers from the table in front of him with the order that the servants give them to the "King in the North". Joffrey's favorite story, however, was the tale of how the stench from Robb Stark's festering wounds penetrates the door causing the guards to bypass his cell for fear of plague!

Knowing all this, she prepared herself a small jug of clear water and some loaf of fresh bread. Getting a copy of the keys to the dungeons proved to be an effortless task as well. Her grandfather kept all the spare ones in a secret hiding place in his chamber, a fact she had known for a long time and the guards didn't even think about forbidding her to enter Tywin's chambers when she showed up at the door carrying freshly embroidered shirts in her hands. Now, all she was left with was the trickiest task: she had to get inside his cell unnoticed. For this, though, she needed the help of a trustworthy ally.

* * *

"You really won't tell me anything?" Tommen asked again when she was about to leave the chamber where they were supposed to spend the whole afternoon together. "It's not right, you have your adventures and secrets, and I'm supposed to be stuck here all day alone, pretending that we're studying!" he was a little upset.

Myrcella tousled his golden hair in a tender gesture. It was really amazing that Joffrey and Tommen were brothers. She didn't know two people more different from each other. Joffrey's moods filled her with fear, while Tommen's sulking face only caused tenderness.

"One day I'll tell you everything, I promise, little brother, but for now you have to trust me, will you?" Myrcella pulled him by the ear playfully, "I promise I'll compensate you somehow!"

Tommen smiled brightly and nodded his head. His older sister always kept her promises.

Myrcella, ensuring that her brother knew what to do, quietly opened the secret door and sneaked out of the chamber. No one better than the two of them, the children who had been born and grown up inside it, had known the secrets of Red Keep. She was absolutely certain that, dressed in modest dress, with the hood pulled up on her hair, she would be able to sneak unnoticed to the very depths of the dungeons. What would happen next, she could not perceive, but was counting on fortune.

The Gods were on her side when she sneaked through the tunnels of the dungeons. She picked a right time for her expedition. The guards gathered together in one place occupied with a meal and did not pay attention to anything confident in the walls surrounding them. She was moving through the darker and darker corridors, until finally she found herself near the cell almost at the end of the dungeon, in a place where neither the sun nor even the sounds of the castle's life above could be heard. Joffrey did not lie, there was a faint smell of filth, impurities and blood coming out from under the door.

She carefully lifted the bar blocking the door, turned the key and slipped inside.

At first, she did not see him, but after a while, when her eyes got used to the semi-darkness, she saw him sitting by the wall and stepped back, in shock, placing her hand on her mouth to quieten the cry of outrage. Joffrey was actually holding him on an iron leash! The iron rim surrounded Robb Stark's neck and the end of the chain was attached to the wall. His movements were limited to sitting and half-sitting when he wished to use the stinking bucket placed next to him. His hands were also chained and only now did Myrcella realize the significance of the key that Joffrey loved to wear recently.

She approached him and slipped the hood off her head. Her golden hair shone in the dark and at the same time an angry growl sounded out of the mouth of a restrained prisoner.

"You came to celebrate, princess?!" he nearly threw himself at her, but the chain around his neck effectively restrained him.

He didn't expect to see her here. Ever since he had been thrown into that dark hole, he hadn't seen anyone but the guards who dumped the food in and once removed the bucket of excrement. Joffrey had only come once when they had chained him to the wall to pour venom into his ears, describing what he had done to his sister in all the hideous details, and how the heads of their mother and younger brothers had joined his father's head to stack up on the walls where the ravens could peck out more and more pieces of their flesh. He had never felt so much hatred for anyone before.

Myrcella stopped half step uncertain.

"Well, the perfume and surroundings aren't particularly suitable for princesses, but as whole Kingdom knows, you're far from ordinary! Maybe here in the south, this perfume is good for you!" he assaulted her, clearly alluding to the whispered rumors about her true origin and status, but his words had sounded strange, his voice raspy.

Myrcella, defying his verbal attack, stepped closer and kneeled to take a better look at him. His sparkling eyes and blurred speech clearly indicated that he was consumed by fever. She took out the water jug and carefully extended it in his direction.

"It is clean and fresh," she provided.

Robb looked at her extended hand. His throat was burning him alive, but he felt disgust at the very thought of taking anything from the hands of the Lannister. Murderers! They were all murderers!

" Please, take it, if not for yourself, then for your sister. Sansa needs you, and you won't help her by remaining here and wasting your life."

At the sound of his sister's name on her lips, his hands shot forward locking his fingers tightly on her wrist. He pulled her to himself in one single movement, so that she was virtually sitting on his knees and their faces were close together.

"How dare you?! How dare you even say her name?!" he was hissing right in her face, shaking her violently and tightening his hand around her throat. She was so tiny, he could easily break her neck with his bare hands. Myrcella was petrified with fear. Even wounded and consumed by the fever, he was strong enough to break her in half like a twig.

"I'm sorry..." she cried out "I didn't mean to! I just…." tears of horror and pain rolled down her cheeks without her permission.

When Robb saw it, he threw her away. Who was he turning into? Assaulting young women? Is that what the Lannisters reduced him to? Is that what he became? The Beast from the North that scares children? Desperate, he hung his head helplessly as much as the iron rim allowed, feeling the bitterness of failure choking him. He failed, he failed his father, his mother, his brothers, and now at the very end he would fail his sister. He was a failure, a worthless fool! Cursing himself in grief, he pressed his fists to his eyes.

Myrcella, forced away, violently landed on her knees and crawled away on all fours, coughing and catching her breath. She made a mistake, she never should have come here. What was she thinking? She ought to leave this place immediately and never come back again.

  
Her gaze dropped on a jug lying on the ground. She was remembering Sansa's cries from yesterday, heard from the royal bedroom, even through stone walls and closed doors. For Sansa, for Sansa and for Ned Stark, who had been always kind to her and who had died unfairly and unjustly and for those two little boys whose heads were decorating the walls of the capital. She reached for the jug and, taking a deep breath, bringing to mind all the brave women she had read about and sought to become similar to, for the last time, she extended her hand in his direction.

"Please, take it, you must be thirsty."

She should have run away from him. He was sure she would flee shrieking. He pulled his hands from his face and stared at her sharply. She stood in front of him quivering in fear, her whole body was shaking, but she was still offering him water. He stretched out his chained hands and carefully, so that he did not accidentally touch her, he plucked it out of her hands. The clean water tasted divine in comparison with the dark liquid he had been given, he felt as if the coldness was healing his aching throat.

"How long have I been here?" he questioned quietly, returning her the jug, he couldn't risk the guards discovering it by accident.

"It's been 4 days since the battle," she replied setting aside the jug constantly avoiding his gaze. From her pouch she pulled out loaves of bread that she smuggled in and gave both of them to him. She felt foolish that she did not think about other things, such as ointments or dressings.

He didn't protest this time just broke a piece of bread and lifted it into his mouth. The fourth day?! It was only the fourth day?! He believed he had been living in that cell for eternity, the darkness made him lose track of time.

"Do you know what happened to others? What happened to my men?"

He didn't trust her, but she was the only person he could ask that question.

"Most of them succeeded in escaping." She swallowed nervously and proceeded "My grandfather and uncle are pursuing them."

He nodded his head. What a great commander he proved to be! He had led his men straight into a trap!

"I must go." The princess's voice interrupted his somber thoughts. "No one can know that I was here."

Of course, he understood this, her gesture, offering him water and food no matter what motivated her, could only be perceived in one way: as treason.

"I shall come again and bring something to reduce the fever and to dress the wounds," she promised softly.

He didn't understand. She wanted to come back?

"You don't have to princess, you owe me nothing and I don't expect anything from you," he objected.

"It's not about what I have to do, Your Grace, it's about what I should do, it's what honor demands." she clarified calmly before leaving him alone in the dark with his thoughts.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos:)  
> I hope you'll like it:D

* * *

They were gathering in small groups, emerging from the forests in a dozen or so or arriving using the broken paths just to rejoin the major party with some relief, seeking friends and whispering questions about those they hadn't spotted. They were covering themselves in the woods and the mood in the camp was similar to a burial and a wake. The troops were devastated by their defeat. Not only had they lost the battle, not only failed to save Lady Catelyn and her sons, but what was the worst, they lost their King. Their King, whose last command before he had rushed on enemy forces to cover their retreat with a group of loyal warriors had been: _"Save yourselves! Survive!"_

So they did it, loyal to the end, they saved their heads, but what next? The scouts informed about an approaching army led by Tywin Lannister. What would they do? Who's to determine what happens next? Men were looking at each other, not certain, hesitant and lost. The last commands issued by the King before the battle rang clear in their ears: _"If I die, my brother will take command."_ But now they had already known of the death of both royal boys, they had seen their heads clogged up on walls!

" We must decide something." Smalljon Umber shouted out loudly with his eyes set on the lords assembled in a makeshift tent. Fortunately, most of them managed to escape from the trap, sheltered by their men, but their faces mirrored the mood of the soldiers. They no longer believed in victory. Smalljon was getting angry at the sight. He was determined to fight for his King and best friend to the very end, to his last breath, but even he didn't understand why Robb had done what he had done, where he had sent Theon before going to Kings Landing and why he had named his little brother a commander ?! Had he got a plan? Oh why, why, why Lady Catelyn had insisted so the boys would stay with her, why she had taken them to her brother's wedding! Why had she not entrusted Greyjoy as Robb had wanted? Perhaps everybody would have been alive then!

"The King is dead, his Mother and brothers are dead. Princess Sansa is forever lost, she is the wife of our enemy, and Princess Arya, surely she has been buried in some nameless grave for a long time! All we can do now is try making peace with the Lannisters. Maybe then we can salvage our heads." Lord Glover grimly predicted the future

"Peace?!" young Lord Wylis Manderly was outraged. "What peace?! They'll wipe us out as soon as we fall into their hands! They've killed innocent and defenseless boys, and you, my lord, you want us to put ourselves in their hands?! Perhaps we should spare Lannister the trouble and stick ourselves on our own swords!"

"Your suggestion is just plain cowardice!" Maege Mormont yelled, "We people of Bear Island know no King but the King in the North whose name is Stark!"

" You accuse me of cowardice?!"

"Peace!"

"Fight!"

Screams rang out from everywhere and the lords almost leapt at each other's throats when a loud whistle was heard. Astonished they looked in the direction from where the sound was coming from. Theon Greyjoy took his fingers off his mouth satisfied that his tactics were successful and, with a mocking smile, ignoring the lords outraged by his behavior, nodded at his companion who was concealed in the shadows.

"The King is alive! And it is our duty to carry on fighting and liberate him! Him and the princess! Just as you have sworn! To the very end!" The harsh voice of the newcomer reverberated like a whip and shook the audience. The stare of his black eyes nearly pierced them through. In silence, with shame, they lowered their heads and retreated making a way for the black dressed man who entered the tent, with two wolves walking by his side, one completely white and the other, with his ear detached and wounded muzzle, who had always accompanied Robb. Both ready to jump down the throat of anyone who dared to protest.

"Jon Snow!"

* * *

" And now look at this princess." Maester handed her yet another golden honey-colored broth. " A few drops dissolved in milk is enough to soothe an upset mind and give it a healing sleep."

Myrcella leaned over the clay container hiding the elixir with interest and smelled it. The smell was quite pleasant. She laughed asking him to continue the lesson. It had proved to be easy to convince the maester to provide her with a few lessons on healing remedies, not even Tyrion had seen anything unusual about her wanting to learn more about herbs and remedies, everyone regarded it as a harmless whim of the princess, and the maester himself became extremely appreciative and gladly answered her questions revealing peculiarities hidden on wooden shelves.

"And is it safe, for example, for women in the blessed state, or injured?" she asked innocently

"Oh, princess, that's why you're so curious!" maester threatened her with a finger, and Myrcella went still, did she betray herself?!

"You presume the Queen is expecting a child, well, I can tell you in secret that I too suspect so," maester appeared to be very pleased, "but it's too early to speak out about it."

Myrcella felt like she was falling into an abyss. A child?! Oh, no, no, no! Fortunately, years of practice have helped her keep a calm face.

"You've discovered my secret, my good sir" she giggled "but please don't reveal it to anyone"

Maester touched his finger to his lips as a sign that her secret is safe, and then proceeded,

"Yes, the brew is safe for everyone."

"And what about the more severe wounds. I have seen the scars of Ser Arys on his face and arm, he told me that he sustained a severe wound in a fights with thieves and became seriously ill afterwards, even feverish. He was very appreciative for his care, but to this day he does not know how he was salvaged," Myrcella carried on pretending that questions arose from herself and not revealing that she had practiced them many times before she thought they did not arouse suspicion. In fact, Ser Arys had the scars from the battles and once answering Tommen's curious questions he told them the story. Still, she was getting on the slippery slope now.

"Oh, with severe wounds, the most important thing is to stop the bleeding. The simplest and most effective way is by fire."

"Fire" she repeated wide-eyed in horror

Maester laughed at the look on her face.

"Yes, princess fire. We call it the cauterization of wounds: a blade heated up in the fire is applied to the wound, thereby stopping the bleeding and allowing the wound to be closed, leaving a scar."

"It's fascinating" Myrcella offered him her most beautiful smile to encourage him to continue his lecture, and the maester almost swelled with pride and straightened out even more, seeing her wonder and admiration for his expertise.

As her mother used to say, any man facing the admiration of a beautiful woman would behave like a fly with sweet wine. Regardless of the danger, he would not be able to stop himself and he simply kept on drowning in order to remain in the radiance of her admiration. Myrcella has never even suspected that she would follow her mother's teachings and use her methods in an effort to save Robb Stark's life!

"Yes, but it only works with bleeding wounds, which are, forgive my language princess, fresh! As far as I remember, Ser Arys's wounds weren't like that, some ignorant fool dressed them without cauterization, stopping the bleeding, but did not clean the wound, and it began to reek, which consequently caused a fever"

Myrcella sat down on the stool staring at him with her huge eyes and imploring to continue the story. The maester, seeing her interest, went on, he needed no more encouragement

"When they brought him in, he was feverish, so I prepared him a brew of willow bark, elderberry blossom and poplar buds. Then, of course, I had to take care of the wound, it had to be cleaned., It was difficult, because an abscess formed, which I had to remove first, of course I had previously drugged him with milk of poppy, although in his condition and with the fever it was a bit dangerous, then I purified the wound with alcohol and applied marigold ointment mixed with myrrh, bread and cobwebs," he pointed his finger at yet another one of the jars and Myrcella quickly added another information to her stock of knowledge.

"Fortunately, Ser Arys was young and strong. I made him drink the beverage for a few days and changed the dressings until the wound healed" he concluded his story.

" You saved the great knight with your expertise and skill, the kingdom has a debt of gratitude to you." Myrcella praised him not adding anything about her own debt, which she had just incurred from an unaware maester . Not only did she gain the knowledge of what she had to do, but sneakily when he wasn't looking, she acquired tools to do so!

* * *

"Leaving the Night Watch is punished by the death of a deserter." Lord Glover was one of the few who after shaking off the first shock did not easily surrender to Jon's command.

Smalljon was already holding his hand on the grip of his sword, and Theon impatiently rolled his eyes ready to give a sharp biting answer, but it was Jon who was quicker,

"Yes it is my lord, and as soon as the King in the North gets here I will gladly accept any punishment he decides to inflict upon me! I am here because my brother and my King summoned me," he said in a heavy tone. "I am here because my loyalty belongs first and foremost to my brother and it is to him that I must serve in the first place. I didn't come in time to save my younger brothers, but I won't let anyone slaughter Robb. You will fight under my command until the day Robb returns or I die, whichever comes first. If I die first, Smalljon Umber will take over and continue fighting. It was your King's will!" Jon took a deep breath, he did not want to say the next words, but he had to do it " If someone does not want to carry on fighting in the name of his King, because he or she is not willing to serve under the command of a deserter or bastard, they can leave today and go home".

"I'm staying."

"I'm staying!"

"I'm staying."

"Let's fight!"

"For the King!"

"For the North!"

Swords were raised and shouts of determination resounded throughout the camp.

Jon breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head at Theon's smirk.

Well, now he just had to find a way to win this war.

* * *

It's been 3 days since she first visited the dungeons. This time carrying her filled bundle, which painfully cut into her arms, she could feel a little more confident. The King, wanting to demonstrate the joy of his victory over _"those mongrels"_ and undoubtedly to impress Margaery Tyrell, whose necklines, as Myrcella remarked, were getting deeper and deeper every day, organized an archery competition and a picnic for the court members, obviously accompanied by musicians of all kinds of entertainment providers such as acrobats and jugglers. The sense of organizing such events while people in a war-torn country suffered from hunger was not at all logical, but as a result she could slip away unnoticed without involving Tommen. She excused herself from participating with the excuse of suffering from the pain and fatigue caused by a monthly affliction. Her brother, occupied with looking down Margaery's cleavage, didn't even notice. It turned out to be more difficult to dispose Ser Arys, but she finally convinced him by asking him to win one of the prizes in the tournament wearing her favour.

Standing in front of a familiar door she calmed her breath and slipped inside.

"You're back." Robb couldn't hide his surprise at her sight. "I didn't think you would do."

"I promised I'd come back," she answered, giving him a jug of water. When he was drinking, she slipped her burden off her shoulders, refraining from massaging the aching arms. Unlike the last time, this time she came better prepared. First she took out the folded food pack: meat, cheese and bread looked and smelled heavenly. Robb glanced at these treasures and felt his stomach growling at the very sight.

" Please eat slowly so that it doesn't harm you," she asked quietly pretending she didn't hear the loud rumble and focused her attention on the objects she was taking out of the bundle, which she carefully arranged on a cloth stretched on the dirty floor.

Eating Robb observed her actions and supplies: there were candles, small containers and an extremely sharp-looking knife. Myrcella bit her lip while looking around the cell, there was one thing she didn't think about while preparing herself for today.

"What is it?" Robb asked, seeing her suddenly distressed face in the twilight, she seemed quite confident until that moment and the sudden uncertainty did not fit her.

"I… I made a fool of myself. I brought more food, an ointment and an infusion that you should drink several times, but I didn't think where to hide it," she looked helplessly around. The mixture should have been drunk every few hours, she had no chance to come to the dungeons so often.

Robb calmly shifted the rest of the food aside and reached to the wall to which he was chained. Myrcella was bewildered as his fingers pulled out a large stone from the wall, showing the space created behind it. Robb had to remove the paste and get the stone out and then deepen the hole using what he had at his disposal, the chains he had been chained up with.

"When?" she was surprised that their minds seemed to pursue the same direction. Despite their differences, they unconsciously started to cooperate with each other, which was a good foresight for the future.

"I've had a lot of time since the last visit and I thought about the same thing," he said recalling how sorry he had been to give back the jug of water for fear of the guards.

Myrcella tilted her head incomprehensibly." I thought you didn't believe I was coming back?"

"Believed- no. Hoped-yes," he replied quietly and Myrcella dropped her head to hide the blush.

Her hands grasped the flint and she lit the candles, placing them next to him. In their glow he looked even more ill, and now she saw the condition of his scattered hands. Digging out the stone from the wall left clear marks in the form of abrasions and bruises. Robb observed her in silence. In the light of candles her hair seemed to flicker with gold, tiny hands were almost transparent, the only disturbance to this perfection was a red stripe visible on her exposed arm and clavicle. For a moment he wondered what the origin of this wound was, but he quickly shaken it off, what did he care how she got her skin damaged?!

" What now, princess?" he questioned, pointing his head at the assembly she had prepared, although he knew well what she was aiming for, he had seen such preparations.

" If you let me I would like to dress your wound," she pointed her hand towards his side from where the pieces of cloth he used to stop the bleeding were clearly protruding.

He wasn't going to stop her, the wound was increasingly bothering him, and although it wasn't fatal in itself, he knew enough to realize that if he didn't treat it, it could easily lead to his death.

"You do know how to do this," he wondered, while turning a little bit and pulling up the tunic so that she could see his wound unhindered.

"I know," she said with certainty, she didn't feel inside . When her gaze fell on his side, she felt even less confident.

The wound looked terrible. It was running just under the ribs, had jagged edges, and was coated with dried dirt, a nauseating smell was coming out of it. With shaking hands Myrcella reached for the knife which she held over the candle for a long time, as the maester had explained, and then she brought her hand with the knife closer to the wound, sending a prayer to all the gods new and old. She put her free hand on his side to support herself and asked raising her eyes and meeting his gaze:

"Ready?"

The muscles under her hand were painfully tense.

"Go ahead, princess, you'll be the first Lannister to actually cut me," he joked, but immediately clenched his teeth tightly to stop screams of pain when a sharp knife started to tear open his wound. Myrcella just bit her lips, focusing all her attention on the task.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister had a bad feeling. Something was wrong. They should have caught up with the fugitives within a few days and finished them off, but after the first minor achievements there was a standstill. They no longer encountered small groups fleeing in panic, they did not find the abandoned horses and gear, nothing to indicate a panicky escape.

Tywin did know what to think about it. He did not like the conclusions he was drawing, but it seemed that despite capturing the King in the North, his army was not completely defeated, merely preparing for a counterattack. But who would lead them and what did they intended to do? Tywin damned his grandson, if it hadn't been for his stupidity, they would have ended this war a week ago.

Disgusted he reached for a quill to write a message to his son. The execution of Robb Stark had had to wait. There's no telling whether he might have been useful to them as a hostage.

* * *

Robb opened his eyes feeling the cool touch on his forehead. A compress and female hands. How could her hands be so cold?

"Thank the gods." Myrcella sighed deeply, seeing that he was regaining consciousness. For one terrible moment, she was certain she killed him. She was so relieved that she fell to her knees.

Robb recovered slowly. He was sitting sideways, leaning against the wall, and his wound, he moved his eyes down. Myrcella put on a fresh, clean dressing, so he could not see much, but he felt the pain of burning and itching of the cleaned wound clearly. That pain was familiar. That pain foreshadowed the healing.

He looked at the woman sitting next to him who, clearly drained by the stress of the last minutes, fell down hard on her knees and on her little hands covered with blood and other disgusting things that most likely saved his life.

"Water" he coughed

She leapt upwards and, cursing her stupidity, reached for water and brew. She had no time to feel sorry for herself!

"Drink everything, the beverage will help fight the fever."

Robb obediently drank the specifics without removing his gaze from her. Who was she? Why was she helping him? She was a mystery he couldn't figure out. What had she been talking about the last time? Honor? Honor and Lannister? What a strange thought.

Myrcella was gathering her stuff in quick succession. She gave some to Robb, who stacked them neatly in a hiding place, others, including bloody pieces of cloth, she folded into her bag. She would have to burn them so that no one would suspect anything.

"I'll be back in a few days," she pledged lifting the bag. It was still too heavy for her, and Robb squinted his eyes when he saw the strap inserting into her body.

"I promise," she added.

"I believe you, princess."

The expression on her face lit up the grim cell better than any candle.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG THANK YOU to all who left a commnet/kudos:) I'm happy to know that you find the story intresting:D

The old man stumbled to the place of execution. He no longer had any hope of being saved: his sons were dead, his soldiers either died or fled in panic, and his allies who had promised him mountains of gold for what he had done abandoned him to the mercy of the wolves. And now he stood surrounded by them quivering while awaiting execution.

"Walder Frey!" A thundering voice rang through the air like a thunderstorm. "For your crimes: conspiring with Tywin Lannister and Roose Bolton, for your treason, for your role in the murder of Lady Catelyn Stark, Brandon Stark and Rickon Stark, I Jon Snow, commander of the Northern army and loyal warden to the King in the North hereby sentence you to death."

Walder Frey lowered his head. It was over. One swift strike of the sword was enough.

* * *

"I don't quite understand, uncle, I thought that we won a magnificent and decisive battle, a victory the kind about which the songs would be written," Myrcella asked naively, nibbling on an afternoon snack in Tyrion's solar where she was supposedly taking refuge in an escape of boredom. " But Joffrey is angry because grandfather forbade him to carry out the execution, and everyone around has been whispering about another battle".

"We all believed it." Tyrion admitted reaching for another piece of delicious pastry brought by his niece. He shouldn't have ceased his work, but he rarely had the opportunity to talk with someone who didn't regard him as a monster and didn't dispute every word he said, and in addition she brought him his favorite treats. "The Northerners not only managed by some miracle to reunite, but also to launch an effective attack!"

"Attack? On our forces?"

"No, of course not." Tyrion swallowed a treat and settled down more comfortably." They crushed down a House of Frey. A quick blow out of surprise, allegedly there was nothing to be picked up, full effectiveness without any trace of mercy. Hardly surprising, after everything Freys had done.

"Incredible!" Myrcella shaken her golden curls. "How could they have done it without their commander?!"

"They seem to have a new one." Tyrion leaned over and quipped in secret " Varys told me that the new commander of the Northern Army is Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard. You should remember him from Winterfell."

Myrcella frowned , implying that she was trying to remember who he was talking about "I suppose so, Uncle, a dark boy with curly hair and an endlessly gloomy and sulking face?"

"The very same one, apparently he deserted from the Night's Watch and now commands the army of the North to an immense displeasure of my father of course." Tyrion shoved the crumbs of the pie from his knees and gazed at his niece. "But enough of that, tell me better, my darling, what brings you to me, because surely you didn't come here to talk about the advancement of our troops and the state of war?" he grinned as if the very thought of that was preposterous.

"Uncle, as I told you I wished to see you and treat you to those delicious food I acquired from the kitchen" she protested with an innocent face fluttering her eyes.

" Well done, young lady. Now, you'd better tell me what you're after, you've been nagging the maester what do you wish to do now and why would you need my assistance to do so?"

"Oh Uncle, I'm confined here like in a cage! How long can I sew in my chamber and participate in Tommen's lessons?!" she made her voice sound as miserable as possible and tears of resentment blurred in her eyes. " When father was alive, I was able to move around the King's Landing, leave the fortress, talk to people, and now I'm stuck here like a prisoner and I'm dying of boredom! I'm not even allowed to go for a ride!" she crossed her arms on her chest and put her lower lip out pouting.

Hmm, she was right. She was buried there completely unproductively exposed to Joffrey's arrogance. Tyrion wondered on the dilemma. Maybe it's time to start seeking out the appropriate match for her. She was already at the right age to be married. And for the time being, indeed, leaving the castle where everyone was constantly exposed to Joffrey's whims could only do her good

"All right, I'll see what I can do, but you're going to take Ser Arys with you everywhere" he offered slightly patting her hand.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, Uncle!" she put her arms around his neck and kissed him on both cheeks like when she had been a child. Tyrion laughed, well, he had a weakness for beautiful women.

* * *

As she resolved the issue of the festering wound, she was faced with another problem. Each day spent by Robb in chains attached to the wall was a weakening one. In order for him to escape, he had to be strong and unrestricted , and in order for him to gain strength she had to free him from the chains. The circle was closed! The key, she had to get the key to the chain. That thought was keeping her busy. She had to find a way to get a print of the key and then make a duplicate. But how? She had the second part of the task after the conversation with Tyrion more or less planned, but the first part seemed almost impossible. Joffrey did not part with the key, and as far as she could tell, there was the only one copy! Myrcella watched her brother attending a dinner where he had only assembled family members, sitting at the head of the table with Sansa at his side, struggling to figure out what to do when Joffrey slapped the chalice on the table and demanded silence.

"My dear wife and I have a joyful news for you!" he rudely patted Sansa with his open hand on her belly in a gesture that was an abomination of any tenderness that should exist between spouses at such a time. "My wife is going to fulfill her duty and soon there will be a new Baratheon in the world.

The silence in the room was almost ringing in the ears.

"Congratulations, my dear. Congratulations!" Cersei was the first to recover, hurrying to her son's side to kiss him." Of course that you succeeded my dear!"

"Congratulations to both of you" Tyrion raised his chalice and gave Sansa a sympathizing look.

"That's great news," Myrcella quipped while standing up and offering her good-sister a embrace and a hug. Sansa's tiny arms were trembling with suppressed grief and Myrcella damned all the men who, with their dumb choices, had led to this insane predicament. She squeezed Sansa tighter, willing to transfer some of her strength.

"I'm going to be an uncle" Tommen seemed delighted to follow his older sister to embrace Sansa, probably the only one unaware of the strain, or the only one who was really looking forward to seeing another member of their family being born. "I'm so excited!"

"Of course, we won't be spreading this joyful news right away," Joffrey warned, undoubtedly thinking of Margaery and benefits of her learning as late as possible about the unfortunate news. "After all, we don't know what could happen," Joffrey chanced lightly to what Sansa instinctively placed her hand in a caring and protective gesture on her stomach.

"Nothing would happen. You're referring to the heir not just yours but the North's'' Tyrion intervened with a sharp voice, in which sounded both a threat and a warning.

Joffrey snorted disrespectfully, but having encountered his uncle's strong gaze as usual in such a situation, he dropped his eyesight and focused on his food. The servants brought another steaming platter to the table.

Myrcella returned to her place and smiled sweetly at the sight. She figured out how to do it.

* * *

"I'm not a little boy, you don't have to guide me by hand!" Tommen kept grumbling and whining when holding his hand, she marched through the corridors heading for the bathhouse. If he could, he would have jammed his feet and refused to continue walking to the slaughterhouse.

" Uh-huh, and do remind me who managed to escape from the bathhouse last time before he was properly scrubbed?" she mocked, recalling his misdeed, "I promised that this time you'd be scrubbed all over and I'd keep my word!"

The Royal Baths in the Red Keep were located in a separate part of the palace and occupied a huge area designated solely for the use of the King and his family. They were situated above the hot springs that were beating from the depths of the mountain, thanks to which there was never any shortage of steam and hot water inside. It was also the only place in the whole palace where the King was not surrounded by his guards. Only young women served in the baths, and this made Joffrey always love being there, and since he had started courting Margery, he has been visiting them almost every other day, taking care of his image of a good-looking King. Tommen, on the other hand, enjoyed bathing in every sea and lake, but he avoided bathhouse like a plague.

Myrcella led her whining brother inside and dismissed the servants.

"Ella! You don't have to undress me," he complained and whined, trying to soften her up with a loving nickname that only he used, although he obediently raised his arms to help her.

" No, I'll leave you alone for a moment, you little grumpy thing, and you'll disappear somewhere in the nooks and crannies to avoid a bath," she teased him. " End of discussion, brother, take your towels and into the bath," she gently pushed the reluctant Tommen towards the bathtub rooms.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered, allowing the servants to lead him to the bathtub.

Myrcella rolled up his dirty clothes in a small bundle and quickly, unnoticed by the servants focusing their attention on the grumbling Tommen, sneaked through a narrow corridor stretched along the bathhouse designated for the servants. Joffrey used a separate room, intended only for the King. He should now rest in the bathtub and his belongings should lie spread out, in the colder room next door as he has been used to doing ever since childhood. Her older brother, as always predictable. She almost laughed at the sight of things scattered around. She bent down and lifted the shirts and other parts of his wardrobe, as usual, her brother wasn't really bothered by anything and simply dropped everything including the chain on the floor. She was in a rush when she finally heard a sting. The chain with the key fell out of the bunch of clothes. She breathed a sigh of relief. She found it! Pulling out a little piece of wax from her dress pocket, she pressed the key firmly to it, trying to get an imprint. Having been absorbed by the task too late, she heard the sound of the door opening and froze staring with her eyes widened with fear and face turned pale at Sansa, whose bewildered gaze rested on the key held by Myrcella , which had just slipped out of her hands. In Sansa's eyes, there was a flash of understanding and something more, hope.

"Hurry up, how long will it take!"

They were torn from the trance by Joffrey's approaching voice.

"Hide!" Sansa mouthed, turning around and blocking the view of the room, Myrcella noiselessly disappeared behind one of the cupboards trying to be invisible.

"What's taking you so long?!" Joffrey grumbled, pushing Sansa aside and entering the room naked. Myrcella clenched her eyelids, but this image was meant to stay in her memory forever.

"Nothing, I just changed my mind and decided to take advantage of your generous offer my dear husband and take a bath too," Sansa said the first thing that came to her mind.

Joffrey's face stretched out in a lewd smile. "So what are you waiting for, my dear?"

Swallowing and forgetting about her dignity, she quickly got rid of the dress and stood in front of him naked, suppressing the feeling of repulsion at the sight of his body's reaction to her nakedness.

"I guess I'll accompany you, dear wife, I'll soap your back." he wooed coming closer and patting her on the buttock.

"Whatever you want, husband," Sansa humbly accepted leaving the room without protesting, risking only one quick glance behind her.

Shaking out of indignation and fear, the princess of the Seven Kingdoms stood inside gripping in her hand the piece of wax containing the imprint to the key to the shackles in which her brother was trapped. Sansa experienced for the first time in many days a sense of hope sprouting in her. Maybe not everything was lost.

* * *

The wound healed well. Myrcella allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief and began to put on a fresh dressing. Four days had passed and there was no infection, her patient had no fever, there was nothing that the master had warned against. She should not have come so soon since the last time, she risked using Tommen again as an excuse, but the concern kept her sleepless. She was afraid that she would find him unconscious, feverish or already dead!

"What is the diagnosis? I'm going to live?" Robb asked her sharply when she was finished.

He was furious at himself because he found himself looking forward to seeing her and enjoying the sight of her, not so much because of the food and water she brought but simply because she showed up, and because he could talk to her, because she brought the light into this dark room and his darker soul. And this awareness filled him with rage! How could he have felt that way about any of the Lannisters?! How could he rejoice at the touch of her soft hands on his skin while his sister suffered torment at her brother's hands?!

" Most definitely, Your Grace," she proclaimed, clenching the dressing tightly, without noticing the ongoing storm in him.

"Congratulations, you're getting me ready for my execution, princess, this is a great achievement," he spitted out.

He was aware, deep down, that she didn't deserve any of those attacks, but he had been stuck in these cursed dungeons for too long and had no one to unwind on. The guards went in and out without saying a word, even trying to avoid his sight, so there was only one left to him- her, regardless of how dishonest and unfair it was to take it out on her, the only person who tried to help him.

She was shocked as if he had struck her and perplexed wanting to hide her injury, she reacted quickly:

"There will be no execution, at least for now. And before that, Your Grace, you will be free."

"You're gonna magically uncuff me?" mocked bringing up the chains, annoyed with himself for feeling remorse at the sight of her wounded face and trembling lips.

"No, Your Grace. I'll just get you the key to them," she pledged immediately throwing away all the arguments and forcing him to remain silent.

He had no reason not to believe her word. She never broke it so far. He didn't know what to say. Words of gratitude battled in his soul with pleas for her to be more careful. It's impossible for her to do all this unnoticed. Sooner or later someone would find out. Someone would betray her. Good would not triumph over evil, and innocence and honor would not save anyone, not in a place like Red Keep.

Myrcella refused to tell him how she would get it, not yet. Besides, the less people knew, the less danger there would be if she was caught, that they would pay with their heads for helping her.

"Anyway, I have some good news that will make you glad," she announced with false cheer to distract him from the subject. "Your brother, Jon Snow, leads the army of the North! Not only were they not beaten, but they even carried out a successful attack on Walder Frey's forces," she said, but if she expected a joyous outburst, she would be in a severe disappointment.

Robb just nodded his head busy tidying up the supplies she had brought and folding used bandages into her bag. His actions in the face of the messages she delivered had absolutely no sense at all, unless…

"You knew it! You didn't go blindly into battle when you got Joffrey's ultimatum, you had a plan!" she said in a tone where the reproach mixed with amazement. He answered her with an empty, emotionless stare.

"I would be a poor leader if I didn't expect the worst in the face of the betrayal my family had faced, and believed your brother's word that I would save my mother and my brothers by standing up against him in an honorable fight," he pointed out bitterly giving her a filled sack. Their hands touched but none of them retreated.

"So what's your plan? What will happen next?" she asked him defiantly. "Will you not reveal any details?"

"Would you tell me what your plan is to obtain the key?" he answered with his own question letting the sack out of his hand.

She smiled, very good.

"My grandfather underestimated you, Your Grace." Myrcella admitted.

"I daresay, princess, that he underestimated both of us." Robb grinned teasingly.

* * *

Tywin was looking at the maps on the table. They were running in circles! Just a few days ago he had been sure he had them in his grip, but it turned out to be a trick - while one unit distracted his army's attention, the main force of the Northerners wiped out the Frey's house, and now it vanished again somewhere, hiding in the woods. This was not the tactic one would expect from the honorable people of the North! They did not intend to give him an open battle, but instead circled around his camp like a genuine wolfs, snatching a few, a dozen or so people who had the misfortune to separate themselves from the main group. Fear began to awaken among the men, but Tywin Lannister did not intend to let his forces turn from the hunter into a prey!

He could try one more thing before he would recognize his defeat and retreat to the capital. One maneuver that would bring them all under his control. He looked at the map. Yes, it was possible.

* * *

"You're sure it's a good idea?" Smalljon could get rid of the doubt.

Jon wasn't surprised. This whole plan seemed crazy, but he gave his word, so he had no other choice. Instead of answering, he turned to Theon, who was prepared to go.

"You know what to do?"

Theon just rolled his eyes arrogantly. " Calm down, Robb discussed the details with me, remember?"

"The question is, can you handle it Greyjoy?" Smalljon mocked him, but Theon gave him a genuinely wolfish smile.

"Worry about yourself, Sir, I'll do my part!"

* * *

Myrcella was almost ready to leave when the door to her chamber opened and someone came inside.

"I know your secret! I know where you've been and what you're doing" a familiar voice echoed in the room and Myrcella clamped her fingers around the piece of wax she was holding before she turned her head to face the unexpected guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO? What do you think? Don't forget to tell me:D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each and evey comment from you means so much:D Than you! I'm happy you like it:D

"How do you know where I've been?" she asked surprised when smiling Tommen jumped on her bed and bounced off a soft mattress with a loud laughter.

"I followed you, I saw you going to the dungeon." Tommen sat on the edge of the bed and was waving his legs dangling in the air, "Ella! You're helping Robb Stark! You're bringing him food!"

Myrcella desperately looked around and put her hand on her brother's mouth. " Quiet! No one can know! It's a secret!"

He stared at her and nodded his head in a way that was severely unsuitable for his age. " I know! I won't betray you, sister! I am your knight and I will always defend you!" he swore solemnly.

Myrcella tousled his blond hair with affection, seeing his serious and determined face. " I know, brother, I know, and I will always protect you," she kissed him on the top of his head.

"But it is true you are helping him?" he asked quietly, clearly curious. "Have you been talking to him?"

Myrcella, understanding that she wouldn't avoid questions, sat next to him on the bed and confirmed, "Yes, I'm trying to help him, and I spoke with him."

"And you're not afraid of him? What's he like? Dangerous and scary? Courageous? Did he tell you about his wolf?" the questions flowed one after another, and Tommen's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"No, I'm not afraid. Robb Stark is a real knight, the kind we used to read and listen songs about when you were a child. He does not harm the innocent, even though he is strong and powerful, and his wolf is faithfully waiting for him behind the walls."

Myrcella preferred not to tell her brother the truth about how this mighty warrior looks now chained to the stone walls, totally dependent on her help and detesting that fact. It would be better if her younger brother continued to believe in brave, valiant knights fit to defeat monsters. He'd better believe that good always prevails over evil.

"I knew it!" Tommen was delighted with her description. " I knew that what Joffrey was saying was not true! I knew there were real knights in the world!" he grinned and looked at her pleading. " Ella, take me with you! I'd like to meet him!"

Myrcella wanted to protest abruptly and resolutely in her initial reaction, but she restrained herself. Denying anything to her younger brother did not solve the problem, he was ready to try to go to the dungeons on his own behind her back and fall into the hands of the guards! She had to deter him from this idea in another way.

"I cannot for now, but I'm gonna need your help, I simply will not be able to do this without you, and we need to free him, and as soon as I can I promise I'll introduce you to him, okay?" she offered

"We'll help him escape?" Tommen was excited about the new adventure.

" Yes, so, as an accomplice, do you agree?"

"Yes! I'll help you! Together we will rescue the knight from the mouth of the beast, and we will be the heroes of that song. " He jumped off the bed standing in front of her and bowed " Princess I am at your service! Assign me a quest!"

" All right. For our first mission you'll have to be very sneaky!"

* * *

Roose Bolton couldn't understand what was happening. No, he certainly did, but he couldn't believe it. His men, his son and successor, although a bastard, whom he had sent as previously arranged for supplies and reinforcements, were treacherously attacked by King Joffrey's soldiers and crushed! There was no doubt about the culprit! The survivors of the massacre said that they saw the armors and banners of the Baratheon and Lannister blowing in the wind with their own eyes! Besides, Tywin's indifference when Frey's House had been attacked also proved something. The bastard had no intention to keep his earlier commitments, even though they had fulfilled theirs and had delivered him to Lady Catelyn and the youngest Starks! Grinding his teeth, Roose vowed revenge, without the support of the Lannisters he had no business in the North, but by the gods the treacherous old man would regret what he did!

* * *

Young Tollen, barely 16-year-old guardsman, was trembling with all his body because of his wounds and the terrors that awaited him. With his head bent over, he was led before the leader of the troop, whose soldiers were just about to end up with his comrades-in-arms. Lord Tywin Lannister orders had been clear, they had been ordered to join Roose Bolton's forces and attack Winterfell, but before they reached the meeting point they had been ambushed. No one expected treason and attack on their own land, so the surprise had been complete. A much smaller but merciless force wiped out his men. And now he himself, trembling, was led before the commander whose face was covered with blood and mud, sitting on a huge black horse, staring at him from above.

"Do you know who I am?" a man tartly asked.

Shaking out of fear, Tollen just turned his head and dropped his eyes. He knew, of course he knew, all he had to do was look at the sigil painted on the soldier's shields - the red x-sign, which was supposed to resemble a crucified man. He swallowed his saliva, he witnessed it, he saw those soldiers doing it to his captain, stretching his corpse on the prepared wood.

"Are you sure?" a voice sounded from above. "Soldier! I'm talking to you! Don't you want me to skin you?!"

"You are... you are, Ramsay Bolton sir, son of Roose Bolton. " choked out a fast panicked Tollen

"Very good, very good indeed. Now listen to me, soldier." The man smiled frightfully. "You'll get on that horse and go straight to your master, Tywin Lannister, and tell him how the Bolton House rewards treason. Remind him that our blades are sharp!"

Tollen, on hearing that he would live almost fainted. He obediently nodded his head a number of times assuring that he would deliver the message, anything to get out of this place!

The commander observed in silence as they put him on the horse and lead him through the battlefield, making sure he saw the bodies of the Lannisters' soldiers and their own forces.

"You think he believed it?" Wylis Manderly with relief removed an uncomfortable helmet from his head and turned to the men sitting on the horse's horse.

"We'll soon find out," Theon rubbed some mud off his face and moved his hand through his hair, wondering how long it would take to get rid of the dark stuff and return to their true color. The sacrifices he made and the losses he suffered during this war were truly unprecedented!

* * *

Her little brother performed his task of diverting attention perfectly, Myrcella couldn't stop her smile as she watched him walking with energy and enthusiasm from one small stall to another, chatting to people, examining goods and seemingly enjoying the day. She and Ser Arys could only obediently follow him and even her faithful guardian could not doubt the sincerity of Tommen's delight. But with each step taken, her little brother was bringing them nearer and nearer to their goal. Finally, they stood in front of a familiar entrance and, as planned earlier, Tommen imploringly gazed at Myrcella.

"Oh, no, sister! I forgot!" he exclaimed in despair

"What have you forgotten about again, hmm?" she came up closer, while the craftsman who was busy with his work put the hammer down and stared at them with curiosity.

"I need to pick out new kitten bells and find the cages for the birds! But it's going to take so much time, and soon the ships will be arriving in port," he exclaimed clearly torn, pointing at the sun. Indeed, the hour of the arrival of the merchant barges was nearing, which has always been a big event.

"Well, I guess you'll have to choose my little prince, what you love most either animals or ships," she suggested continuing the charade.

"No!" stomped his foot in anger, mimicking Joffrey's behavior in such a situation. "I haven't seen any barges come in since father passed away! I want to see them!"

" Good, then we'll go to the marina," she eagerly agreed

"But my pets" his lower lip was shaking dangerously and Myrcella sighed surrendering.

" Oh, all right, all right. We're gonna try to do both. " and then she turned to the quiet Ser Arys. " My lord, will you be so good and take my brother to the marina and stay with him? After that, you come back here for me. I'll pick out the cages and bells during that time."

"But, princess, it cannot be, I can't leave you here alone!" the knight opposed.

"But I want to go!" Tommen screamed loudly interrupting him.

"All right, all right, you will go!" Myrcella smilled apologetically at Ser Arys, who was clearly astounded by her brother's untypical behavior "You must forgive him, ser, this is the first time he has left the castle since father's death and clearly the excitement is overwhelming. Go with him, please, and I will stay here, I promise not to leave the premises, and I am sure that this young man will ensure my safety," she concluded by turning to a craftsman who came forward.

"Of course, princess," he bent in half.

Ser Arys looked doubtful. Of course, he knew who the young blacksmith was and knew that his ward would be safe, but still he hesitated.

"Come on! Let's go! Tommen made a run for the marina to settle the matter. Ser Arys had no other choice but to follow him. "Stay here until I return princess" he requested

"Of course" she supplied him with a smile, then as soon as he got away she smiled at the broadly smiling blacksmith clearly amused by this entire performance.

"Hello Gendry"

"Hello, princess." He replied widely opening the door and inviting her in.

Myrcella gracefully entered and looked around with curiosity. The interior of the forge was surprisingly clean and well organized. Her stepbrother was apparently doing well. She looked at a tall man who stood quietly looking at her with interest. She remembered the first time she had seen him, long, long time ago, when Ser Barristan Selmy introduced him to her after he had rescued him from the slaughter organized by her mother. She remembered the boy who had been enraged by the whole world, to whom she had offered her meals and whom she had successfully supported with Ser Barristan's help by financing his apprenticeship with a blacksmith. Gendry always said that he was indebted to her and that he was ready to reimburse her at any time, all she had to do was ask him. Today was the day she was going to do just that.

"What brings you, princess to my humble forge, apart from the selection of cages and bells?" In spite of how long they had known each other, he still had some resistance to use her name and Myrcella sighed hearing the title she hated once again.

"Myrcella, my name is Myrcella , Gendry as you well know it," she brushed him lightly and smiled at the sight of his blush. Something changed in her half-brother, something transformed him.

"I wish you'd do something for me." Myrcella took a deep breath, she took the risk of placing faith in his discretion, but she had no choice, "Nobody can know about it, and you can't ask me any questions about what it's for or why I do it."

Gendry tilted his head in concentration. He's never seen her scared before.

"You know I have an unsettled debt with you, tell me what you need?"

She took two items out of her dress pocket and put them on the table. He came closer and saw the key and a block of wax with the key's imprint on it.

"I need a copy of these keys as soon as possible."

He bit his tongue before the questions came out of his mouth. He gave her his word.

"Before Tommen and Ser Arys return from the marina?" he asked, taking both objects and heading towards his tools.

"That would be best," she responded.

* * *

"So your brilliant plan is to wait?" Smalljon asked, unbelieving his own ears. He did not understand the deeds of his leader. " You' re going to spend a few days on a difficult journey and then wait for three nights for a woman who might never show up?! What about the army? What if Tywin's troops attack us?!"

"Yes, that's the plan." Jon replied calmly. " And as for the army, if everything goes well they won't attack us now, anyway, you'll stay here just in case."

Smalljon looked at him stunned by the news. He? Him? Commander?!

"My brother trusts you and I trust you." Jon declared putting a hand on his shoulder. "I know you won't let Tywin surprise you."

"Aye!" Smalljon swore and then looked at his leader anxiously. "What if she doesn't come?"

"We'll have to think of something else," Jon responded throwing a dark cape on his back, "but I have faith that what we have written would be of interest to her," he made an effort to reassure their third, mute companion, who was preparing to accompany him on the journey.

"May it be right my Lord," Smalljon stroked his nose, "it's a dangerous game with very high stakes."

Ion just clenched his teeth in effort to not bite back. He already knew perfectly well how high the stakes were! He didn't need anyone to remind him of that!

* * *

Myrcella not wanting to distract Gendry, who was focused on his work, selected bells and cages to stay true to their lies. She didn't have to hurry. They had a lot of time because Tommen promised to linger at the marina for as long as possible. Looking at her brother's creations, she couldn't help but admire his talent. He wasted it by focusing solely on swords. She curiously examined the ornaments when her eyes caught a sight of a table hidden deep in the room, or more precisely shining object lying on it.

Impossible!

On her toes, while looking behind her, she moved closer. Her brother meticulously crafted the wolf sigil adorning it on something that looked like a clasp to the coat. She moved her finger along the precise lines. It was obvious that it took him a lot of trouble, attention and time to make it. She clamped her fingers around it. What could that mean?

"Done" Gendry declared when he entered the room wiping his sweaty forehead.

She turned towards him biting her lips, unsure whether to ask him. But she needed allies, Tommen alone was not enough, and who could she trust if not her elderly half-brother?

She opened her fingers and showed him an object lying in her hand without a word. Gendry froze in panic. He was sure he hid it well, but apparently yesterday, when he had made the last improvements, he had forgotten to cover it up.

"Myrcella" he began "it's not like that, I just" he was stuttering not knowing how much he could reveal.

In despair, he looked straight into a familiar beautiful face. It was his sister! The only person in this world he would dare to call family. If it wasn't her, who would he trust?! She could've given him up to her mother's hatchets a long time ago.

"Gendry?" she inquired

"When I left King's Landing, shortly after the King's death I did it with a girl," he finally stuttered. "She at first was heading North, and then I think she decided to go to Braavos. Before we separated she told me about her family, her brother. I wished to go with her, but she declined it. That's why I came back and I try to help them, help him as much as I can, mostly just conveying messages. This" he indicated the item she was holding "is a gift for her."

It was obvious that he didn't tell her everything about the encounter with the mysterious girl, but for now, what he told her was enough, she was stunned.

"Her brother?" she needed to be sure.

"Aye" consciously he used the northern phrase in the hope that she would understand.

Myrcella nodded and extended her hand to offer him the ornament.

"I think you should do one more, a little bit larger for my friend, he will need it once we've made use of your keys," she said, and Gendry's bewildered gaze went towards her face.

"Myrcella?" he exclaimed, but she just smiled mysteriously.

* * *

"Bolton's men slaughtered ours?!" Jaime in disbelief listened to the report of a young guardsman he encountered while leading the troops in accordance to his father's plan.

They were supposed to surround the forces of the North, but now with the latest information, he had to turn back. His father did not know about the betrayal of Lord Bolton, Roose could enter his tent freely and simply stab him with a knife, and then everything would be lost. Without thinking about it, Jamie ordered a retreat. He had to reach his father before the treacherous Roose Bolton would made his move.

* * *

"We made it!" Tommen couldn't contain the enthusiasm when she showed him two keys, one for the dungeon and the other to Robb's shackles in the comfort of her chamber.

"I couldn't have done it without you, brother. You were brilliant," she praised him kissing him on a cheek and, laughing when he wiped the trace of her kiss with an offended gesture. Oh, yes, she forgot he wasn't a child anymore!

"When will you go to him? Soon? He'll be happy and grateful to be free!" excited Tommen asked bouncing on the bed.

"Yes, soon, I have to change the dressing and bring him food" and the information that his younger sister had left the King's Landing, she added in her mind

"He'll probably be so happy he will be overwhelmed, and he'll hug or maybe even kiss you!"

"Tommen!" she cried outraged by his vivid imagination.

"You like him!" called Tommen revealingly and carried on with a happy giggle and the sight of her blush.

She threw a pillow at him blushing to the roots of her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, most of you guest the identity of Myrcella's visitor, hope you're not disappointed:)  
> Don't forget to tell me what you think:D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos:D  
> Reading them gives me motivation to keep writting!

* * *

"Second marriage?!" Tyrion choked and almost spit out the wine he was drinking when he heard the King's most recent idea.

"You want to take a second wife?!" he was coughing catching his breath.

"Why not? Aegon the Conqueror had two wives!" "Joffrey said proud of himself and his perspicacity, "if he could, so can I! For the sake of the realm, of course!" Joffrey, delighted, sat down more comfortably in his chair and looked at his stunned uncle and mother.

He managed to surprise them! Yes, it was an excellent idea, he should have thought of it earlier! After all, he was the King, he was entitled to everything! And it was high time for everyone to realize that!

"My dear, such things require prudence" his mother began, but he interrupted her with an irritated hand gesture.

" No, Mother! I've decided this is the way it's going to be! I'll wed Lady Margaery Tyrell in three weeks!"

"Three weeks, son, just preparations" Cersei started protesting and Joffrey annoyed threw the chalice against the wall.

"Three weeks I said! And not a day more! I won't let my dear sweet Margaery wait! She's been waiting too long already!" Joffrey lustfully licked his lips at the very thought of the pleasures he would enjoy with his new wife's beautiful young body.

Cersei sent a desperate glance to her brother, who responded with a shrug of his arms. What was he supposed to do? She had raised this monster herself and now everybody was reaping the harvest! He sighed hard.

"What about Queen Sansa, your wife? Your first wife! She's expecting your child. She must not be exposed to any stress or anxiety." Tyrion noticed tartly

"Oh, she's completely useless," Joffrey waved his hand disrespectfully. "She will soon become ugly and fat as a barrel, and she's already boring. She's just sitting in a corner and either sniffing or she's with the ladies and Myrcella sewing some ridiculous little clothes!" he was clearly bored with the subject "but if you care about her so much, send her somewhere far away, for example, to Casterly Rock, where she'll give birth to her brat in peace and not bother me!"

Tyrion bit his tongue to not comment on his nephew's words. Indeed, sending Queen Sansa as far as possible from Joffrey's fist could only help. Just yesterday he had seen a new bruise forming on her cheek, an unmistakable sign of the King's discontent and impatience. Yes, if they wanted to keep the baby she was carrying in her belly alive, it would be best to send her away.

Tyrion began to sort out a message to his father in his head. The old man would certainly be delighted with his grandson's new ideas, Tyrion couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

* * *

Sansa smiled warmly at her good-sister, who walked in and sat next to her, reaching for her sewing as she used to do every day. The ladies of the court muttered observing them carefully and Sansa dropped her eyes. She could not expose herself, nor could endanger Myrcella, although she was burning with uncertainty and worry about her brother. She focused on the tiny clothes she was decorating when a loud moan sounded.

"Oh, I forgot!" Myrcella whined, putting her hand to her mouth in a lovely gesture "I promised Tommen that I would bring him fresh cat treats from the kitchen and I completely forgot about it! Your Grace, with your permission can I go away for a moment?" she asked Sansa, "my brother will be inconsolable, and he cannot manage to get what he needs himself because he is chained to his study by his tutors!"

"But of course, dear sister, you don't have to explain yourself." Sansa held her breath hearing Myrcella's words.

Chains?! Robb!

"Go ahead, but I'm sorry to hear about my good-brother's unhappiness. Could it be that the tutors are too demanding?"

"Thank you, Your Grace, but you have nothing to worry about" Myrcella grinned. "Fortunately, my brother's misery will not last long, he will soon be free to do what he wants when he'll reach appropriate age."

Sansa suppressed her smile. She understood the message.

* * *

Robb wasn't even surprised when, after giving him the food bag with a smile of triumph and joy, she presented him with a key she pulled out of her pocket. From the first day since she has stepped into these cursed dungeons, he found out that Princess Myrcella was an exceptionally well-organized and enterprising person who was able to carry out her plans successfully. He stared at the key with a longing and demanded loudly

"Release me!"

Myrcella hesitated and bit her lips. She knew that what she was about to do would make him angry and resistant, but she had no choice whatsoever, for his own well-being she had to do it.

"I will free you, Your Grace, if you promise not to try to run away on your own," she said, standing in a way to be out of reach of his arms. She had learned her lessons well.

Robb looked at her with anger and smiled mockingly, "Why should I promise you anything?"

"Because you have no alternative," she stated. "Even without the shackles, you can't get out of the fortress by yourself, let alone from King's Landing."

"All I have to do is get to the throne room and kill your brother!" he growled angry. He spent long hours in his cell thinking about how he would do it.

"Even if you could get to the throne room and kill him, though I doubt it very much, considering you've never been here and the corridors are full of guards, what next? You'd die spilled by guards, and your sister would pay for it with her life. Let me help you, and I promise I'll have your flight arranged soon."

He hated it when she spoke so logically, tearing away all his reasons in a soft voice and pointing out flaws in his schemes and intentions. She was a fearsome adversary with her iron and pragmatic mind.

"How can you be sure I won't break my word?" he attempted to throw her out of control, but as a reward he only received a beautiful smile

"Your Grace, your reputation precedes you, you're Robb Stark, King in the North, honor and duty bound you, you'll not break your word," she stared at him patiently.

"All right, I swear!" He barked clearly agitated. "Now uncuff me!"

Myrcella rushed to take off the chains. She started with a collar that he had fastened around his neck. He tilted his head to make it easier for her to access, exposing his throat. Myrcella trembled at this sign of trust. One little move from her would have been enough and he would have been dead, one slice of the knife. Shaking off the wicked thoughts, she unlocked the shackles around him before moving away. Robb rose slowly, he didn't think that weeks of imprisonment would weaken him so much! Leaning against the wall, he ascended, stretching his muscles and joints until he finally straightened up and looked down at her from above.

Myrcella needed to tilt her head in order to look at him. When he had been chained to the wall, she had forgotten how powerful man he was, but now when he was towering over her and his strong shoulders obscured her view, she could clearly see his strength, which even weeks of imprisonment had failed to destroy. Her brother would have no chance of beating him in a fair fight.

Robb took a deep breath. He was free! Free! Well, almost free, he glanced at the locked cell door. They were so close! It was tempting, so tempting to open them and run out, break through the guards straight to the throne room and squeeze his hands around Joffrey's neck. His eyes fell on a small female figure standing between him and the door. Well, he gave his word. Anyway, he was too weak for now. He took one step back and suppressed his smile at the sight of the relief that appeared on her face.

"Here," she offered him the key to the handcuffs, and when he didn't react, she added, "Take it and hide well, you'll be able to uncuff yourself at any time."

"Can I also get the key to the door?" he asked as a matter of principle, although he already knew the answer, but in response she just shaken her head.

"I have one more good news, Your Grace," Myrcella offered instead. "Your sister Lady Arya left King's Landing just after your father was executed. I know from a certain source that she travelled on the ship to Braavos"

Shock, disbelief and joy were clearly visible on his face. His little sister was alive! She was alive and not in the hands of the Lannisters! Did this young woman know what a relief her words brought him?! Did she have any idea what she had done for him?!

"Thank you, princess, thank you for everything," he said sincerely, recognizing her as an ally for the first time.

"Myrcella" she offered, it wasn't typical or proper, but they've long since passed the limits of that. "My name is Myrcella"

"And I'm Robb" he replied with a broad smile.

* * *

The leaves were buzzing around, and in silence the sound of rowing was clearly audible. A boat was approaching the shore. Jon cautiously kept staring away, looking for danger, but he didn't see anything. Two hooded figures were approaching him. He breathed with relief. She came!

"Lady Selyse Baratheon" he bowed down low in his greeting and looked questioningly at the man accompanying her

"Lord Snow" she greeted him with a nod. "Your message said I could take a trusted companion, this is Ser Davos Seaworth."

"Of course, my lady, thank you for coming." He offered Davos a nod

"I shouldn't have, but you wrote about my daughter's fate, about the danger she's in, and that's the only reason I'm here, that's why we're both here," she emphasized strongly.

"Thank you, madam. Indeed, I need to talk to you about your daughter's future." Jon pointed his hand at the spot that had been prepared. "Please come and sit down, there is a lot to talk about"

* * *

"You fool!" Tywin was yelling at his son almost spitting fire. "Complete fool! All you had to do was listen to me and do your bidding and we'd have them all!"

Jaime didn't intend to humbly listen to the accusations thrown up at him,

"Father, you heard yourself! Bolton betrayed us, I couldn't risk him attacking you! I'm sorry that my concern for your safety was more important to me than orders."

"You were caring about my safety?! You?!" Tywin roared, basically resembling an angry lion at the moment. "You complete idiot! Can't you really see that it was just a scam?! It was the Northerners who killed the Bolton's son, and then our people!"

"But the soldier who brought the news saw Ramsay Bolton! He spoke to him!" Jaime didn't understand "He's part of a conspiracy?"

Tywin has muted the curse in his mouth while pondering the stupidity of his descendant.

"And he recognized Bolton how? Did he ever see him? No! He saw the house sigil, the shield and that was enough for him! Just like it was enough for Roose Bolton, who saw our shields! They tricked you all like little children!"

Tywin took a breath when he saw his son being startled. Further scourging him made no sense. He had already grasped the enormity of his stupidity. He had no intention of caring about Roose Bolton either, he would just crush that reptile without mercy. Anyway, he already fulfilled his role.

"It's hard, we lost this game, fortunately we have good news too. Stannis is planning to head North, which should give us a little peace of mind. Undoubtedly the army of the North will have to turn back to protect their lands, Baratheon's stubbornness and stupidity will give us some time. Right now I have to write to King's Landing, the boy is becoming more and more insane!" he gave Jaime a message from Tyrion.

Jaime was shocked upon reading the news. Second wife?! Could Joffrey be as mad as Rhaegar or Aerys?!

* * *

"That's ridiculous." Lady Selyse said loudly when Jon finished his story. "Complete nonsense! Lies and slander! My husband wouldn't be capable of such despicable wickedness! He wouldn't have secretly murdered his own younger brother or planned to sacrifice his nephew to the Gods!"

"But that's what he did My Lady." Jon repeated, stubbornly trying to break through the wall she surrounded herself with "Red witch sneaked into his mind and he's obsessed with the desire for the throne, he would do anything to have it."

She looked helplessly at Ser Davos, who was avoiding her eyes. He knew, he knew about her husband's crimes long before Jon Snow revealed it to them!

"Even if what you say is true, My Lord, even if my husband has done all that what it has to do with my daughter's safety that you wrote was the purpose of this meeting?!"

"The Gods, especially those who demand sacrifices, are greedy ones, hungry for blood, and the red witch craves royal blood, innocent blood" Jon allowed his words to resound in the ears of those present sharing with them all the disturbing information they managed to gather about red witch and her kind. He was in great debt to Samwell Tyrell for all his work on the matter.

"The question remains, whose blood will she demand now when your husband will lead his people and you with your daughter far North? The North is unmerciful My Lady, you will not find any refuge there, your husband will not be victorious, and he will want to overcome it, and the red witch would offer to help him again for a price".

Selyse wanted to deny it, but she couldn't. Her husband, a man she has never forced herself to love, a man she couldn't even respect, who has looked at her like an unnecessary thing, blaming her for the lack of sons and her daughter's illness. A man who recently locked himself in his chambers and accepted only the presence of that red witch who was whispering in his ear!

"What do you expect from me, sir? What do you want? I'm to join your rebellion? Swear loyalty to the King in the North?!" she didn't understand what the people of the North might want from her. How could she save her daughter from her father's madness, with their help?

"No my Lady, I want you and your men to return safely to Dragonstone and rule it as regent until your daughter comes of age. You will remain neutral and you will bow to whoever ultimately wins the war."

"And you will get rid of the threat that the Baratheon army is causing at your rear," Ser Davos, who has been silent until now bitterly observed.

Jon endured his gaze without a blink of an eye. "Yes, but you will admit, sir, that the safety of the young heiress and her mother with the assurance of their control over the hereditary land is worth it surely? No matter who wins the war, they will be safe!"

"For the price of relinquishing the claim to the Iron Throne" Ser Davos summed up.

"Yes, but excuse my sincerity, My Lady" he said to Lady Selyse. "I don't think you or your daughter would develop properly in front of it."

She couldn't say no to that. The Iron Throne frightened her, and the thought of her little daughter finding herself in this habitat of vileness and betrayal filled her with disgust.

"Even if you are right, my Lord, my husband will never agree to it, and I won't be able to persuade him to do so," she admitted with anguish. Her influence on Stannis did not exist and everyone knew it.

"That's why there's someone else here to do this task for you, My Lady." Jon held his hand to the third companion who emerged from the shadows. " My Lady, this Brienne of Tarth, she served your good-brother Renly and sworn to avenge him, now she's ready to help you and protect you and your daughter."

A mighty woman in armor was looking at her without a word. Selyse was trembling. She remembered her. Ugly as night, a woman who fought like a man.

"I don't…." she hesitated wavering.

Was she ready to do that? She looked helplessly at Ser Davos, she had elected him as her companion because she knew of his attachment to Shireen. She expected to hear his protests, assurances that Stannis would never hurt his daughter, but all she saw was him biting his lips and struggling with his thoughts, and that scared her even more. Because it meant that Jon Snow's words were true, her husband killed his own brother! And if he was capable of such atrocity who could predict what he'll do next?! She didn't want to go North, she didn't want the Iron Throne! All she wanted was for her daughter to grow safely!

" My Lady" Brienne spoke for the first time. "I'll stay nearby. Just light a candle in your daughter's chamber and put it in the window. I'll understand it as a sign and come without delay to your aid, I promise."

Selyse nodded her head, yes, she had to thought about it. She had to talk to Stannis, it was impossible, impossible!

* * *

Sansa put her hand on her belly. She hadn't felt her baby's movements yet, but she was aware that it was in her, that it was developing and growing, so she waited impatiently for the first kick. At first when she started to suspect that she was carrying the child, she was afraid that she would hate it as much as she hated its father, she even wondered if she should throw herself down the stairs or jump out the window to lose it. Now, however, looking at this new bump, and gently leading her fingers along it, she felt nothing but love. She loved this child, whoever his father was, because it was hers and she wanted to protect this child at all costs. There was one thing she would always agree with Cersei, a mother loves her children the most in the world. She turned her eyes to Lord Tyrion, who appeared in her chamber to inform her of the King's decision, she was to leave King's Landing with a small escort and go to Casterly Rock to await a birth. Nothing but Joffrey and Cersei's beheaded heads and the appearance of her own family would make her more happy.

"Of course, my lord, I will do as my beloved husband and King commanded. It's admirable of him to take such good care of my health and that of his child," Sansa uttered the appropriate phrase.

She had no illusions about the real reasons for her sudden liberty, but she wondered if Margaery knew what she was doing willingly associating with such a monster? Did she really believed that she could maintain his interest and favor long enough for him not to raise his hand on her? Sansa had serious doubts, but Margaery, notwithstanding the sympathy she had initially shown for her since the information about her pregnancy, no longer sought her company. Their friendship was over. So Sansa could only wish her luck.

Tyrion bowed and headed for the door when a sudden thought blossomed in her head.

"Lord Tyrion!" she stopped him and waited for him to turn towards her.

"You said my departure would be arranged quietly so as not to arouse unhealthy gossip and I'm supposed to keep it to myself, but could I say goodbye to my good-sister, Princess Myrcella? We spent long hours with each other sewing in my chamber, we became friends and I will miss her. "

Tyrion examined her and then nodded his head at the sign of consent.

"Of course, My Queen, you can inform her of your departure and say goodbye. My niece will surely miss you very much as will I, you are an exceptional woman and it is an honor to be able to serve you," he politely inclined.

Sansa thanked him with a nod. Myrcella! Myrcella who took care of her wounded brother! Myrcella could have helped her and her child!

* * *

Three weeks! In three weeks, she'll be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms! Margaery smiled with satisfaction looking out the window at her future kingdom. The second queen, but, well, for starters, that's good. She was sure she would be able to overshadow Sansa and maybe even get Joffrey to annul the first marriage besides, women and newborns die in childbirth every day, as her grandmother had recently often repeated. She felt pity for Sansa, but well, the throne required sacrifices, but if the marriage could be annulled, then Sansa would be able to return home, and her bastard, well, probably would go to the Night Watch. Yes, that seemed like a good solution.

There was only one problem she had to deal with, her future husband. She winced. Joffrey Baratheon was a slimy, dissolved, disgusting bastard, and the very touch of his hand on her skin caused her a shiver of disgust, but her grandmother ordered her not to worry, they would soon deal with that issue too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos:D

* * *

The heat has been a nuisance to all the residents of King's Landing in recent days. Having completed the torture of the long hours of discussions with Margaery and her grandmother about the wedding, the feast, and her role in the ceremony, Myrcella fell on the cushions of the ottoman and reached for the clean water waiting for her in the cup.

There was no doubt that the second wedding of the King would be nothing like the rushed first one, this time the ceremony would correspond with the status and rank of the event, and apparently enchanted Joffrey ordered to fulfill all the wishes of his future wife, regardless of the cost. Nevertheless, Myrcella couldn't stop wondering how long Margaery would succeed in maintaining Joffrey's interest and how long it would take before her brother would reveal his far less attractive face. Her reflections were interrupted by Sansa, who unexpectedly entered the chamber, as usual, surrounded by her indispensable guardians- two dreadful older ladies - Cersei ears and eyes.

"Your Majesty" Myrcella rose up in a moment and curtsied.

"My dear sister" Sansa came closer and caught her hands. "I couldn't start the preparations for the departure without telling you. I would never forgive myself if we were to part without prior notice and say goodbye in a hurry, even if we are parting for such a short time. You've become as close to me as a true sister, my friend."

"Departure?" Myrcella stuttered nervously and Sansa squeezed her hands tighter, begging her to understand.

"Yes, my good dear husband, for the sake of my health and that of our child, sends me to Casterly Rock. The preparations for the journey are already in progress and I'll leave in a few days. Oh, I will miss our moments together so much!"

"Me too, Your Majesty, me too" Myrcella assumed a correspondingly pained expression on her face, "but if this is to the benefit of your health, My Queen and that of my nephew, we must accept it. May I help you with the preparations for your departure?" she offered.

"Oh, thank you, my dear, I always knew I could count on you." Sansa let go of her hands and smiled in gratitude.

* * *

She didn't have much time. Sansa was due to leave next week! Only seven days! It was so little time, but it was an opportunity they couldn't afford to waste! If she wanted to free Robb, she smiled a little bit like always when she let herself use his name, she also had to liberate his sister. There was no doubt that Robb's escape would have caused painful consequences for his sister. She could not save one without saving the other. Myrcella, not caring about changing clothes, ran to her younger brother's chambers. She had to go to town immediately, but first she had to borrow from her brother his kittens.

* * *

Robb, surprised, raised his head at the sight of distressed Myrcella, who almost breathlessly burst into his cell. He quickly got rid of the handcuffs that were only ostensibly binding him and stood up watching her anxiously, too little time has passed since her last visit, so something remarkable must have occurred, moreover, she did not have her usual sack with her, and her golden dress was unlike the maid's clothes in which she usually sneaked into his cell. At that moment the princess of the seven kingdoms was standing before him in all her splendor and magnificence and Robb had to find her stunning.

"It's Sansa, it's your sister," she breathed out quickly, and Robb feared the worst.

"They're sending her to Casterly Rock because of the child she's carrying and the planned second wedding of Joffrey with Margaery Tyrell. " Myrcella proceeded quickly and Robb felt a wave of hot anger flooding him.

"Pregnant?! My sister is pregnant?! Why?! Nothing..."

Myrcella quickly put her hand on his mouth to stop further screaming nervously listening whether his outburst attracted the interest of the guards, but no, it seemed they were still looking for the missing kittens obeying the pleas and demands of the seemingly desperate because of their disappearance Tommen.

"Yes, she's pregnant and I'm sorry I didn't mention it to you before, you can scream at me all you want later, but now is not the time! They're sending her to Casterly Rock with a small unit, I can send your people a message through a trusted person, but you have to tell me something that will make them realize he can be trusted! Something important! Something only you and your half-brother would know to make him believe that the message came from you! Otherwise, no one will believe him, we must hurry, we have little time." Myrcella removed her hand from his face and looked at him waiting.

Robbb calmed down enough not to yell, although his mind still could not accept the information. Sansa, his sweet little sister carrying that monster's baby?!

" Robb!" Myrcella almost shouted out impatiently, " later, you'll scream, and curse and vow revenge but now please concentrate."

He frowned and wondered intensely until he finally said, " Tell your person, to tell my brother that he still owes me a favor for not revealing the truth when he let my mother's favorite horse run away, but instead taking the blame for it", he said slowly remembering distraught Jon, who had come to him for help when the horse he shouldn't have played with suddenly ran away.

"Thank you!" Myrcella was satisfied, that should be enough. She went to the door when he grabbed her sleeve. She stopped and turned her head waiting.

" Wait, the person you're going to send with the message" Robb hesitated, "Do you trust them? Will they be willing to risk their lives for our cause?"

"I trust him with my life," she replied confidently smiling at the thought of her messenger.

Robb felt a tug in his heart when he saw this bright smile induced by the mere thought of her mysterious ally. He pondered who this secretive man was, the one whom she had trusted so much.

"He'll do it for me without hesitation, and he'll risk it for you. He's loyal and true, and he's the one who told me about your little sister." Myrcella finished her thought.

* * *

Ser Arys didn't know what to do. He has been worried for some time about his ward's strange behavior, even though no one else noticed that something was consuming her. Too often she sought to be left without his care, which had never happened before, he believed that she has beencomfortable with his company and trusted him. Additionally, these mysterious visits to the city! Even now, she' s disappeared somewhere again! Prince Tommen has involved almost the entire castle in the search for his pets, and in the meantime his ward vanished again!

Perhaps the princess has found a sweetheart? He was concerned. Apart from the scandal, he didn't wish her a broken heart, and that' s the only way any affair involving her would have ended. He had to share his concerns with someone, but with whom? The King he dismissed at once, the Queen Mother? No, she would be angry at the very thought of disobedience. Ser Arys faced a huge dilemma, but he had to take some action.

* * *

Lady Selyse was quickly walking through the corridors of her house. Around her, the soldiers were busy preparing to march North, for another war. She was shaking. She refused to accept the words of Jon Snow, but they still echoed in her head. She had to be sure. Seeing Ser Davos' concerned gaze as he stood nearby, she gave him a nod of acknowledgment and hesitantly tapped the door of her husband's study.

"Come in" Stannis' voice sounded commanding and Selyse obediently went inside.

She was expecting to find only her husband, but of course Melisandre was there too, as always in her red dress. Selyse quivered under her penetrating gaze.

Melisandre frowned her eyebrows. Something has changed. The wheels of fortune were not running as they should. She didn't see something she should've seen, but what? A weak wife didn't matter, or maybe she did. Melisandre focused on her feelings.

"Yes? What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?" Stannis gave her a fleeting glance.

"I'd like to speak to you, my lord husband," Selyse said plainly, "in private if you please."

"Talk? Talk about what? Anyway, I don't have time for such foolishness! We're getting ready to march." Stannis waved her off, but before Selyse could protest, Melisandre interfered.

"My Lord, let me go away so you can talk to your wife," she bowed and before anyone could react, left the chamber in a hurry.

She felt the imminent danger, something she could no longer prevent. The bones of fortune were cast, and she was once again mistaken. She had to leave as soon as possible before they would come for him.

Stannis followed her with bewildered eyes, and then stared grimly at his wife.

"So, what do you wish?"

Selyse, gathering all her courage, proposed, " My Lord, let me and our daughter stay in Dragonstone, the campaign you're going on is too dangerous for such a young child."

"Nonsense!" Stannis growled. "According to Melisandre, her presence on the expedition is essential, and we'll quickly win and conquer the North."

"And if not? The North is a cruel and dangerous land, I beg you, my lord and husband, let us stay." Selyse wrung her hands in an pleading gesture.

"No!" Stannis said outraged by her lack of faith, "We're leaving in four days, all of us!"

Selyse dropped her head, accepting her defeat.

"Is that all?" Stannis asked, and seeing Selyse hesitation impatiently snorted "Well, tell me what you want!"

"There are rumors," Selyse said, " I mean, there's a gossip that you'responsible for your brother's death," she professed looking at him intently.

A shadow passed over Stannis' face and Selyse took a step back, terrified of the change that occurred within him. It was true. Renly, poor, poor stupid Renly.

"Who said that?" Stannis demanded, "say who!"

He grabbed her painfully by the shoulders and shaken her violently.

"Nobody, it's just" she was stuttering helplessly. She's never seen him so angry. Tears of horror and pain ran down her cheeks.

"Speak!" he roared and Selyse for one terrible moment was sure she was going to die when they heard a knock on the door

"My Lord, forgive me for interrupting, but we need your opinion on the preparation of the siege machines." Ser Davos' voice was heard outside the door.

Stannis pushed his wife away and opened the door without a word. Ser Davos bowed with respect, throwing a stealthy, concerned glance at Selyse's deathly white face.

* * *

Gendry had no mercy for his steed. He rode faster than the wind in hope that he would finally be able to do something important, something good, that he would be able to put as a gift at Arya's feet. Myrcella offered him a chance, a chance one in a million and he had no intention of wasting it! He didn't pay any heed to the branches that were flogging his face mercilessly as he was breaking through the forest searching for the signs of a Northern army camp. According to the rumors he obtained from the locals' mouths in the taverns he passed, there should have been somewhere nearby. It was rumored that the army of the North followed the Lannisters' army like wolves. The marching column of the Joffrey's troops had passed by some time ago, so he should be nearly there and relatively safe.

Suddenly his horse rose up and out of nowhere soldiers appeared before him carrying spears aimed at him.

" STOP!"

"Get him!

"Stop!

They were all shouting. Gendry cursed loudly. The soldiers who surrounded him from both sides wore the Lannisters' colors. He thought he might be able to hasten his horse and tear himself out of when more soldiers arrived. His shoulders dropped with a sense of defeat. He had no chance of escaping. He failed, he failed Arya, he failed his sister, who had risked so much by asking him for help! He didn't even groan when one of the guards knocked him down a heavy blow.

* * *

Tywin Lannister, with a sigh of relief, sat on a chair covered in soft cushions. He was no longer that young man who could stay in the saddle for hours. His age was beginning to caught up with him, so while returning to King's Landing, he made more stops than he should have allowing the main body of the army to move faster, staying himself in the back. He claimed he was doing this to avoid possible ambushes, but in fact, the campaign against young Stark costed him more than he was prepared to admit.

At his age, he should have spent time sitting comfortably in the palace and giving orders instead of spending days on horseback sleeping in camps! But no one else remained, he was the only one to protect the family heritage, Jaime was a skilled warrior, but as recent events have shown, he lacked the intelligence and cunning to lead, Tyrion was clever, but he was not a warrior, anyway which warrior would obey an imp?! Cersei was a woman, and she was guided by her instincts, and Joffrey, he sighed hard thinking about his incompetent grandson, he was the last person Tywin would trust in anything!

Tywin was starting to get weary of all this, but he had to return as quickly as possible to restore order in the capital. It was a good decision, to send Sansa away but with her he was going to send back a whole group of loyal soldiers, not a small group of Joffrey's men, it was too risky, Tyrion should have been aware of that!

And there was still the question of Robb Stark incarcerated in the dungeons, Varys reported that he was still alive, contrary to their predictions, and Joffrey was starting to get impatient and more and more often mentioned his execution. Tywin was struggling with his thoughts. Stark was dangerous alive, but dead would not have been of any use to him, and moreover, after his death in the absence of another heir, the people of the North could have named his bastard brother a king! No, until Sansa and Joffrey's child would be born, young Stark had to stay alive, Joffrey would have to accept that.

Tywin reached for the decanter and poured himself some wine. But why young Stark didn't die from the wounds? He wondered. He should have, and yet he was still alive. Did anyone dare to help him? Angered by this thought, Tywin drank the contents of the cup, the last thing he needed was a traitor! And yet it was possible, yes, it was possible. Tywin tightened his lips.

Maybe it's time to change strategy. Besides Joffrey, he had two more grandchildren. Myrcella had all the advantages: her origin and unquestionable beauty, he could have married her well, to someone useful to the family, and Tommen, he was reportedly a bit too soft, but was not lacking in intelligence, there was still time, he could start shaping him into his successor. Yes, it could have worked, he just had to take the children away from the influence of Cersei.

The sounds of rioting in the camp interrupted his thinking. Concerned, he raised his head, and saw a bright glow of fire where the end of his camp should be. Cursing he was getting up when he felt the cold blade piercing his side. Tywin moaned in pain, trying to turn around when the blow was repeated, and the next and next came after it.

"I warned you that our blades are sharp."

Tywin, through the fog of pain, recognized the dreadful face of Roose Bolton. He was dying, dying through the foolishness of his son and his allies. What about his family, what about the Lannisters, what...

Roose spat with disgust at the body lying under his feet. He had to hurry to do what he swore to do, the sound of the struggle indicated that his people were already withdrawing.

* * *

The scouts who caught Gendry didn't rush back. They waited until he regained consciousness, then without any questions, regardless of his protests, they tied his hands with a rope, the end of which was tied to the saddle, so that he was forced to follow them, stumbling in the den, because his eyes were covered with blood from the wound on his forehead. Now, however, at the sight of the glow raging in the camp, most of the guards who escorted Gendry headed forward, only two remained and Gendry saw his chance. They didn't search him thoroughly, so they didn't find the knife that was hidden in his shoe. Pretending to be exhausted, he fell down and reached for his shoe. It took him a few seconds to cut the bonds. This time he could not fail, he swore to Myrcella that he would reach the camps of the North and free Sansa Stark, and by the Gods he would do it! He may have been just a bastard, but his father was one of the greatest warriors of the Seven Kingdoms!

"Hey, what are you doing there!" the soldier turned towards him and Gendry pulled the rope with all his might, driving the horse in panic and thus pushing forward, not paying attention to the rider trying to stay in the saddle.

The other soldier moved towards him and Gendry without hesitation grabbed a huge branch, swung and threw him off his horse. The soldier fell to the ground with a deafening clatter, but before he could get up, Gendry was already at his side and swifly stuck the knife in his throat. It happened very quickly. Gendry wiped the knife and moved on to the orphaned horse, which was patiently standing nearby. He had to keep moving, he wasted enough time. The camps of the North had to be close.

* * *

Lady Selyse stroke her daughter's head and kissed her good night covering her with a quilt.

"Mom, why was Father so angry?" Shireen shyly asked picking the cover with her fingers. "Did I do anything to displease him?" There were tears in her eyes.

Selyse was upset to hear the fear in her daughter's voice. Stannis has been staring at her with a threat in his eyes since their conversation, but real fury broke out when it turned out that Melisandre had disappeared. Everyone, even Davos, was getting out of his way fearing the outbreak of wrath.

"No, darling, you didn't do anything wrong. Father was upset because his counselor disappeared somewhere. " She kissed her on the head.

"Mom, will we be safe up North? I heard that it's very dangerous there and that there are monsters that eat children there," her daughter asked naively.

Selyse hesitated and then stroke her daughter's hair. " Nonsense, there are no monsters, and besides, I have spoken to father and it is not yet clear whether we will go North."

"Really?" Shireen's eyes were full of joy

"Really, and now sleep."

Selyse was sitting in the dark listening to her daughter's calm breath. Two days, that's the only thing standing between them and leaving for the North. Even the mysterious disappearance of the red witch didn't distract Stannis from his plans.

Selyse looked at her daughter's face, illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the windows. Her daughter, her only child.

Slowly, almost like in a dream, she got up and reached for the candle lying on the table. With a silent crackle, she lit a wick and carried it to the window, setting it exactly in the middle. It happened. The flame flickering in the window was visible from a distance.

* * *

"Father! We' ve been attacked by Bolton's men! They set fire to some supplies!" Jaime, heated up by a fight with a sword in his hand on which there were still signs of blood of some unfortunate man, ran into his father's tent and froze.

His father, or in fact his headless body was lying on the floor in the X sign, and his head was resting on the cushions of the chair like a parody of the throne. Jaime, in shock, fell to his knees without realizing that his father's blood was soaking his slacks.

"Father!" he shouted in grieve.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think:)

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts?


End file.
